


Strigoi Scripts

by artsyrodent



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Magical!Bella, Romance, Witch!Jasper, bookshop au, witch!Alice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 23:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyrodent/pseuds/artsyrodent
Summary: Edward is the reclusive owner of a small bookshop when the strangest mortal walks into his store- Bella Swan. Her mind is impenetrable to his ability and she dismisses Alice's magic without effort.Things only become stranger when a collector comes to town.
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Strigoi Scripts

Quiet. Oh, it was lovely. 

Sure, there were whispers at the edges of his mind. People on the street nearby that he couldn’t ignore. However, the relative quiet made his investments all the more worth it. He could sink into his novels without being bothered by the chaotic thoughts of humankind. 

_"It is not too late. It beats, though but feebly. All our work is undone; we must begin again.”_

Edward’s still, romantic heart almost beat for Lucy as the doctor fretted over her. He’d never had someone to care for this way, not like his siblings had for each other. Lucy could die on any paragraph; well, _would_ die, yet Edward still felt like he was on the edge of his seat, just as he had when he read this book in 1908. Just as he had in 1912, 1917... just as he had in 1932, finally able to pick the book up again after his turning. The book always reminded him of his human mother’s fury when he snuck away to read the horror novel. Edward couldn’t remember her face, or name, but remembered the moment of ‘uh-oh’ as he’d been caught with the book. 

‘... _he was dipping into his bag and producing the instruments for transfusion;’_

Edward heard the hurried movements of the humans outdoors, but only idly scanned for thoughts of his bookstore. No reason to look up from his novel without being given a reason. It was a nostalgic book of memories, a good marker for the chapters of his life. When Esme, his new mother, had been told what they were, she had immediately thought of Dracula. A vague, imagined version from the book. Emmett’s imagination went straight to the film’s more comical adaptation. 

‘... _No man knows, till he experiences it, what it is to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the veins of the woman he loves...’_

Edward found himself rereading that line. His veins were lifeless ice. No woman could be saved so heroically by his blood. His venom, however, could stitch the wounds of death better than a transfusion. Still, he would never burden a soul with this curse. Despite what his siblings had, he could never imagine subjecting a woman to this life. Not even if he-

The door crashed open all at once. Edward stiffened, spotting a flurry of brown hair flying through the door. He caught a flash of a pale face before it whizzed past him towards the back aisles of his shop. 

If he were alive, his heart may be beating like a jackhammer. A scent blew in her wake, an abrasive punch of an aroma. It was like wildflowers, at first. A whole, overgrown garden. All of the flora shoved down his throat at once, thorns pricking along the way. 

_Burning_ his throat. 

“Sorry!” 

A soft voice. A girl’s. A human that he hadn’t anticipated or expected. The sound of the door must have merely been exaggerated; Edward had only been focused on the book, memories, and the thoughts of passersby. Why hadn’t…? _‘Hmm.’_

He was so confused. 

The bookstore was still silent. Well, besides the girl’s nails sliding over the spines of books and the soft panting over rushed breath. Only ambiance.

_Silence;_ eerie now, but so soothing moments ago. Edward could see half of her short silhouette from around a bookshelf. She had her back to him. He stared intently at the back of her head, but no whispers spilled through. Edward’s features scrunched up with concentration before he willed himself to focus on the thoughts in his store. And, unfortunately, past that. 

_“...I could do with some spaghetti tonight. Do I have time to run to the store? Before DnD?”_

_“...I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m so dead. Maybe I can get a new dog. I’ll even get the same breed. Will she notice?”_

_“...It looks so good! Thomas is gonna freak out when he sees this tattoo! Wait- where’s the ‘H’? Shit”_

Edward pressed his fingers to his temple, massaging it gently as he gave up, only accomplishing a dull throb from the amplified noise. He’d shut his eyes while he willed away the new, woozy feeling from exaggerating his abilities like that. 

  
  
She was quite too much for him at the moment, her scent thick in the enclosed bookstore. With time for his mind to focus, he dissected the layers of her scent. There was a natural, incredible scent of lavenders and freesias. Scenting the air, it even smelled as delicious as he once thought strawberries to be. On top of that scent was the dirt of the forest on his tongue. He could almost scrunch up his nose in disgust. How could the two scents mix? Her natural scent left a horrible burn in his throat, but he hardly struggled for control due to the odor that clung to her aroma. 

“Hey!” 

Edward’s eyes flashed open at the closeness of her voice. The brunette was standing closer, calling to him. She now held two books in her hands, arms and sleeves obscuring Edward’s view of the book. He also didn’t recognize it too well. Their eyes caught on each other’s and Edward lost the ability to look away. Her eyes were a warm, chocolate color, and scrutinizing. 

Oh, too scrutinizing. 

“...What does that mean?” the brunette mumbled in a whisper, assuming Edward couldn’t hear. It was quick, but Edward suddenly felt self-conscious. Did she pick up on something? His eyes could usually pass for hazel in the dim lighting of the store. As he looked up once more, their eyes met. Hers were soft at first. Edward felt as though he’d caught her off guard; then her eyes hardened with scrutiny again. Why? 

“What does what? What?” Edward had never let his words get away from him so easily. He forced his gaze away.

Was a child going to get the better of him? Startling him? How could she ever manage that? If it was intentional, she didn’t act like it. She looked briefly shocked before moving on.

“Uh… nevermind. I’m looking for a book. I thought you were the... Helpful-Book-Guy.” 

“Is that what I’m known for?” Edward asked, suppressing a smile before reaching for an old, satin bookmark to press between the pages of his novel. 

“Yeah. At least that’s what I read in all the reviews. You help with…” she paused “with special cases.” Edward gave her a look that told her she needed to elaborate, “-and interesting history” the brunette rushed out to add. He had the feeling they both knew that was an inaccurate description of what he did here. 

His bookstore sold to a catered audience. It was a resource for the supernatural community. Edward owned biographies of the Volturi, Grimoires of legendary wizards, and even detailed accounts of the werewolf packs and their lineage. He still sold plenty of regular books. Currently, he was reading a first edition of Dracula, an ironic piece he was needlessly teased for. Edward also enjoyed the little, human stories that came through; first loves, coming-of-age, early grief. He caught a glimpse of the human perspective through these novels. It also helped to keep enough traffic through the store and avoid questions. 

She wasn’t looking for _Jane Eyre_ , exactly, so it must be his special expertise she was looking for. What could a human possibly know to get them prying through here? 

“Interesting history? You’ll have to be more specific,” Edward clarified. 

Her eyebrows furrowed in the center to create a little divot of frustration. 

“I’m just…” she struggled with her words, and the silence in her mind made him hang off of each syllable. Edward had so many _questions_ in the absence of her inner monologue. “I’m looking for books on mythological creatures. You’re the only store whose stock doesn’t exclusively include Paranormal Romance novels,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

Edward couldn’t help but grin at that. He immediately thought of several suggestions for a good paper, but the kind that were restricted to people that didn’t smell like a pulled-up garden. 

“Are you hating on Cassandra Clare? Her fans will have you hung for disrespect.” 

The girl bit down on the corner of a smile. Edward thought his comment had taken her off guard. Book stores had a wonderful, secret joy to them. 

“No- not specifically, at least. I’m actually looking for more of a Maggie Steifvater creature.”

Edward frowned. He may have pretended to be modern a little too well, “What?” 

“Uh,” her disappointment at the end of their book banter was obvious, “I’m looking for books, on, uh, Werewolves… actually.” 

Edward frowned. 

“Non-fiction” 

Edward almost frowned harder. He took another sniff of the air, the scent of dirt twisting into something acrid and _wet._ She smelled of Wolf. 

How hadn’t he noticed it when she entered the store? It hit the back of his throat and focusing on moving at a human pace was all he could do to avoid being sick. 

Edward gave her a wide berth while he stepped towards one of the first bookshelves, reaching for a novel. 

“Here,” the vampire spoke before slapping a book on the counter. The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed down. His shift in demeanor must be too obvious, but he couldn’t care. She ought to leave. First, she picked up the novel off the desk and inspected it carefully. 

“‘ _An American Werewolf in Paris’..._?” 

Edward had to wonder what she was getting at. He knew his presence must mean a few of them were turning, but what was this young woman doing running into a Vampire’s nest? He was the wrong person to run to for answers about the Quileute legends. Her instincts would get her killed, easily. 

She had a pale complexion, that must mean she wasn’t a descendent, herself. At least it was unlikely. She must simply _run_ with wolves. 

“There are no non-fiction werewolf books. They’re fictitious,” Edward told her. He wasn’t going to be the one to break the news to her. Edward was hoping she’d leave, but instead, she set the novel back down and turned for the back wall of books. 

“So then what are all of these supposed to be?” the girl asked, tapping the spine of a bookmarked ‘ _Bestiary of the North Americas’_ before dragging her finger over two more Bestiaries, a grimoire, and two tomes on the history of the Cold Ones. 

Edward stiffened immediately, stepping forward and reaching for a sign on the wall with a piece of paper above it. Sigils and runes were scribbled in a blotchy ink meant to create a ward, specifically, a Glimmer. 

Humans were _supposed_ to just see the entire collection of Stephen King novels. For the third time this afternoon, Edward choked out a confused, “... _what…?”_

“I asked what these are. You’ve got everything from Vampires to Sirens over here. What’s a Wendigo?” the young woman turned around and asked, “this is the section you usually lend to the Archeology majors, right?”

She must have misinterpreted Edward’s confusion, she went on to explain, “You’re in all the syllabi as a resource.” 

Edward’s day was just getting weirder and weirder. He’d have to discuss this with Carlisle. A nosy human wandering from their territory to theirs, asking questions such as these? Staring straight through at the restricted section of novels.

“...I’m sorry to say that those books are reserved for educational purposes. They can’t be sold for personal use.” She pouted. The redness of her lips caught his eye. There wasn’t a safe spot on her face that he wouldn’t call _distracting_ in some way, and Edward was forced to pinch his brow.

  
  
“Can I just-” the girl made a noise in the back of her throat of discontentment. She was quite obviously getting irritated with him. 

_‘Good_ ’ he thought, ‘ _Maybe she’ll leave’_

“-I just want one book.”

  
  
“Unfortunately we have a sponsorship through the school system. They are to be held on hand for the students. Someone is already coming tomorrow to pick a few up. You could try the store in Port Angeles?” Edward responded, seeing the gears grind in her head without having any awareness of the contents. He was only getting expressions and reactions… It was infuriating. Like a novel suddenly switching from omniscient to limited third-person. Severely limited.

“No, they didn’t have it…” She scoffed a small breath, her eyebrows slowly narrowing with irritation. “I’ve never heard of a library system working that way. It’s usually first-come first-serve,” the girl added after a moment of thought. Edward’s lies usually wove around the concerns of those he was trying to deceive, but Edward felt like he could only backpedal into more landmines.

  
  
“This isn’t a library. It’s a bookshop. I just lent a few books out that were never to be sold in the first place. They’re rent-only and one-of-a-kind.”

  
  
The girl frowned, “A friend of mine lent out a book from here. It was about the legends of his people, the Quiluetes,” she explained before crossing her arms. 

Ah. Yes, the young descendent of Ephraim Black. He had entered asking about the book twice before actually requesting it. From Edward’s understanding, the boy had shifted not long after. Edward wasn’t privy to the details of the local pack, but he imagined the heir would naturally become the leader.

“The- those books are reserved for the family.”

“What’s that, a sponsorship too?” she scoffed, raising her eyebrows at Edward. He knew he was seriously pushing his luck, making up lies to separate her from the information she was seeking. He had no choice, that was just his life. 

All he could do was nod at her, and she promptly groaned upwards.

“You should ask your friend for the book, he hasn’t returned it yet. It’s _two weeks_ overdue,” Edward responded with a sneer in his voice. Normally, Edward had methods for reclaiming his books. Unfortunately, if he wanted to remain peacefully in Forks, Edward would have to be more patient with the pack.

The girl sighed in response, eyes downcast in thought for a moment before muttering, “I… can’t. He’s been ghosting me ever since he got the book. I just want to know what’s in it that’s so important.”

  
  
Edward grinned, “Are my books creating a lover’s quarrel?”

  
  
She blushed deeply, a beautiful rose-scent flushing over her face and kissing his senses. Edward held his breath a moment, but allowed himself to rake in the sight, visually.

  
  
“What? No- it’s not like that. We’ve been friends for a super long time, and it would really suck if that was all gone over a stupid book about mermaids and monsters,” she explained in a rush. Her erratic heartbeat told Edward a slightly different story, that there might be some truth to his assumption. He decided not to push it.

  
  
“So if you had a second copy…-”

  
  
“No.”

Her eyes were huge and pleading, almost too big for her face. Edward carefully slid his gaze over her irises, grazing over contrasting capillaries in the deep, brown of the orbs. She was horridly distracting. 

And her scent, it still slid down his throat like a slow syrup. Sticky and sweet. The experience was torturous, only soothed by the repulsive wolf scent that clung to her clothes. He understood it now to be fading.

  
  
“I’m sorry,” Edward added, her childish pleading pulling the corner of his mouth up.

  
  
The girl pulled her backpack off of her shoulders, setting it on Edward’s desk. She pulled a notepad out. It was covered in book titles and quotes from _Wuthering Heights_ , as Edward could recognize. It appeared like the jotted-down thoughts of a book report. She very quickly ripped the sheet off and flipped it over, grabbing a pen from his desk to write down some information.   
  


“Would you at least think about it?”

  
She gave him the paper and he folded it very carefully. All too soon, the girl sighed and took her leave. Edward felt disoriented in her absence, still not having a clue of her thoughts. He unfolded the paper after he heard the jingle of the door shutting and realized she’d left without bothering to get a response from him. 

‘ _Thunderbirds and Shapeshifters; Quileute Legends’_

[ _bswan87@yahoo.com_ ](mailto:bswan87@yahoo.com)

_Please!_

He peered at the small paper and flipped it over to read the plotting of her book report. He only viewed the upper corner for a moment. The date read three weeks before, and Edward figured they’d moved on from this in class. Still, he looked at her small notes and written-in quotes, likely to be used while constructing her paper. One, reading large, read in the center as;

  
  
_“I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy-”_

“- _and free”_ he finished the quote from memory, deciding to place the piece of paper in the top drawer of his desk instead of bothering with it long.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been on Ao3 for years, but never written. I have wanted to write for the last 10 years, but never really put words to paper. Please, any constructive criticism is helpful. I know I have too many 'stylistic choices' that need eradicating. I spent this time becoming an illustrator and not really honing this skill too well. I did write bits, but nothing substantial. 
> 
> If anyone has any thoughts about what Bella might be, say something :). I have 2 directions I want to take it, but I haven't super settled on one over the other. One would make this more of an epic, the other would be indulgently hurt/comfort.


End file.
